Rule 3: Hold thy tongue
Never question orders, no matter how ridiculous.
Like following Vulpes Inculta into New Vegas.
"May I ask why, father," my voice is so stiff, even Vulpes looks apprehensive.
Father lifts his head from rubbing his temples, looks at me curiously. Vulpes and I stand at the foot of his king bed, Siri at his side. He shrugs her away, the sound of selerating velcro making my teeth itch as she rolls up the blood pressure taker. She looks between all of us, her eyes landing on me last. I snarl at her and she scurries away, closing the tent flap behind me. Vulpes looks at me, I can feel that much, but I am focused on my father.
"The Courier," he mutters. "The one that Vulpes encountered in Nipton, he has come a long way. I want him to come to me," father reaches into the fur on his chest, the pouch beneath, and pulls a familiar medalion out. "My mark, give it to him, tell him where to go. I expect you both back within the week. Any longer," his eyes rest on Vulpes. "and I will express to you my displeasure personally."
I want to scream, I want to shout. But I can't because you do not question orders. I am dismissed. I turn on my heel and stomp out of the large tent structure, seeing soldiers straighten as I storm past. Fear, it is a part of the perks and I can't even relish the attention.
My quarters are not far, I miss my home in the Great Salt Lake. A broad tent with fine furnishings but it is just that, a tent.
And I'm not alone.
On the preverbial threshold, I am thrust roughly into the tent, my hand flies to the katana on my hip. Balanced handle, authentic blade. The Gun Runners take pride in such weapons and as a practice thief, I crave their prizes. This wasn't even my greatest treasure from them.
The blade tip presses into the throat of Vuples, whose sharp, narrow, eyes show no sway in judgement. I raise an eyebrow but it is a ful five minutes before I sheath my blade.
"What do you want, Vulpes," I grind out, unmoving.
He raises his chin a little higher. "I have a...proposition for you."
The way he curves towards me, I hesitate. He is but a hairs breath away when I regain stoney composure.
"I'm listening..."